Yussif Ahmed Ibn Yussif

You made it seem a crime Meeting you Always trying to charm But no, never impressed you   Nothing that I didn’t try Always a step dirtier Churning out a cry But now, no longer scrappier   A step backwards New veins for fresh love severing ties that draw me backwards And saving ties of newfound love   Maybe, just maybe, true love Can be borne of disgruntled love

Love wasn’t in the air It was in her lungs, my love All I wanted was for her to be my heir Inheriting all my love   One glance And the will was absolute Rushing through my veins But it was still dilute   Due to the embedded thorns She escaped the thrills But I was swimming the thorns Just to share the thrills   When I eventually plucked the rose She’d already hurt her toes                                    Yussif Ahmed Ibn Yussif

Like the embers She sparkles. Burning her way through glory Her flames, Threatening those who would devour her And welcoming the stars As they twinkle and dance to her tune   She blooms And blossoms Her craft, appealing Yet, thorny   A glance And her glows Are apparent   She who must be obeyed Yet, obstinate   She eats your pride And emits love Fuelling your ego To eternal shame   Her presence Send darkness parking She’d smile, wink And send you parking                             Yussif Ahmed Ibn Yussif                             ahmed.yussiph@gmail.com

The tallest man on the land leads But his vision is short Cut only to his crowns and clowns How the people of the land must be proud   Building caskets for his departure His plot, they continue to weave Soon, maybe a rapture Still, he continues to wave   Look to your right, to your left, below and above How abundant his actions continue to yield Fruits of his labour hanging above Let all race to the field   To soak themselves in the honey His royal majesty continues to hone                          Yussif Ahmed Ibn Yussif                          ahmed.yussiph@gmail.com

  Once again, the charcoal seller’s son has been disappointed. His hopes of wearing a white shirt, his symbol of triumph have been trashed. How pathetic though consolatory. The black stars have once again blackened our hearts. Sending disappointing chills down our spines. Pushing the most bitter tablet down our throats. For me, to an extent, this was expected but there was hope. Hope that the players would do all they could to relieve us from the trauma of many years. But as it turns out, they have proven that there is indeed nothing new under the sun. Believe me, some of the players really tried but others were absolute disappointments. Many are happy just because Uruguay is also going home. But just imagine if Uruguay had qualified for the next stage of the world cup competition. Imagine the atmosphere that would have engulfed this country. Imagine the tears in the eyes of Suarez were smiles of victory. We are only basking in the glory of others because it caused the ultima...

I have struggled Hell, I am still struggling So, love hasn’t really been my thing Until I met you   No, you guessed wrong Ha!! I didn’t get a clear look at you But my eyes caught yours Love emanated from that single glance   I don’t know you And me, you know not For me to say I am head over heels in love with you Well, that would be tantamount to treason But I tread, with reason   I won't spoil you with words It’s simple, I like you And I’d like to get to know you If it’s not too much to ask.                      Yussif Ahmed Ibn Yussif                      ahmed.yussiph@gmail.com

How deep are your scars? Are they scary? Scattered and shuttering Or suturing and searching   My wounds were cut deep So are my scars Maybe yours run deep down your soul But mine run deep past my soul So much so that a simple ‘how are you’ Hurts me deeply   I’ve always wondered whether a ‘how are you’ Is a favour or a fever Either way, it only reminds me of my scars   How I heal after that; Fighting isn’t always the answer Sometimes quieting down And finding other spots Could be liberating   Out of many, one And out of one, many Life isn’t ever straightforward The curves are sometimes as important As the straight road Let the scars carve the curse out                          Yussif Ahmed Ibn Yussif                          ahmed.yussiph@gmail.com